She would the small Swift be-Lois E. Linkens

7CEB601FB167429CB706246663CC40DA.jpg

It was a late night when the notion came;

Black and atrous in the dry car park.

Night was cruel – weekend smelled like beer and dark,

A mouth-organ’s growl ran as nuns in shame

Behind her heel, music and love like red

Syrup oozed through her white gold flesh. ‘Kind sweet

Abandon – here I sink my thirsting teeth

Into thy bitter lemon starlight, said

To tell us  – close and fragrant – of our gloom.

My word – how I am stuck in this life’s cement!’

She wants to watch the Osprey, awful claws and

Black-tipped wings abeat to topple Doom,

The horrible slicing of silver flesh —

Puccoon drops t’wards foamy throes, Death’s velvet

Smalt does seduce the coy in brilliance

She curiously craves. Still, as the Osprey fight,

She would the small Swift be; ‘Oh tireless Swift,

Who sleeps in flight, thy burnet body quick

Like wind. No time to think or grieve, no rights

To charmed senses to hapless misconceive.’


[ Lois is a poet and student from England. She is studying the literature of the Romantics and hopes their values and innovations will filter through into her own work. She is working on longer projects at present, with a hope to publish poetry collections and novels in the years to come. She is a feminist, an nostalgic optimist, and a quiet voice in the shadows of Joanne Baillie and Charlotte Smith. It is a pleasure to present her work, and you can find more of it at Lois E. Linkens.]

i woke in good time of that cursed bell- Lois E. Linkens

i woke in good time of that cursed bell
that juts across the path of shimmered stone
and wrenches minds from warm sleep’s gentle swell. 
i woke amid the covers quite alone—
my love was gone. but ne’er to keep away,
i rest in calm assurance of this truth. 
he dozes miles north and hours too, 
for now i tumble from his palace roof
atop his hillock green. An ample hue
to paint pastoral dreams that sooth and calm,
but oh! i would i’d rest upon his arm
and let that cruel ring of loud alarm
awake us two, from easy peace or fright
and leave the tempest raging to the night.


Lois describes herself as a “confused english student,” though one quickly finds a polished, charming poet in her work. She has an elegant style that compliments her keen insight and whimsical sensibilities. It is a pleasure to present her work, and you can find more of it at Lois E. Linkins.

Still Life: Smear – Malicia Frost

The waiting room is full
the tapestry bleeding fungi,
framing the stain
where I pinned their lifeless bodies
a collection of easy-to-use, handicraft lovers
The steel door damp from their reluctant moans
Ideas when abandoned take on hideous forms
Glimmering girls
fly for one night only

Now, her legs are spread wide to receive salvation
Rib cage bent open like sharp mandibles
Intestines twined into useless arms
flapping up and down,
as if mocking the art of flight

You think it will not kill you too?
halo around your thorax won’t protect you
when my mind, with the hands of the drowning
clings on to anything and anyone
that crosses it


 

[Malicia Frost, or Henna, is a hobbyist writer and an aspiring novelist from Finland. She enjoys surrealism, sci-fi and horror, and her works often deal with mental illness. More of her works can be found at her personal blog.]